


Sleep Study

by Icebreather



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icebreather/pseuds/Icebreather
Summary: Rayne fluff. River feels Jayne has a medical problem. Can be taken as following on from Tingles, if you're so inclined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another of my older fanfics from another site, first time posting on AO3.

“You’re provin’ how crazy ya are, girl, ‘cus I don’t.”

 

“Yes, you do.”

 

“No I don’t!”

 

“You do. Boob.”

 

The argument was loud enough (Jayne’s side of it, at least) to be heard down the corridor and into the mess. But it cut off abruptly as its participants reached the door into said mess. When they both tried to fit through that door at the same time, querulous voices resumed as each claimed right-of-way. Jayne, being so much larger than River, shoved through and was champion of the Battle for Entry. His glory, and smirk, lasted approximately 2.5 seconds, just until River had brought her swiftly elevated and precisely aligned leg alongside his skull, causing him to stagger backward with the impact. She followed up with a low-diving tackle to his knees which ended with him below, her above, and her supercilious expression inches from his face. But her gleeful enjoyment of their grappling shone clearly in her brown eyes. He felt his heart hitch when she tipped her chin down and smiled, sweet and soft.

 

Jayne, rather pleased also at the exertion and the excuse for contact, let himself smile back. Just for a second. Then he bucked his torso but he couldn’t push her off without doing real damage to her - or she to him. So he resumed their argument from his supine position, while working his wrists out of her gripping fists.

 

“There’ve been dozens, no hundreds of times”- he paused to smirk again, and caught her around the waist –“someone could’ve told me. No one ever has.”

 

River shook her head remonstratively, even as he flipped her off and his body over to hold her down. But for all his size and strength, she had agility on him, and wriggled out and away and rolled to her feet.

 

“You confuse quality with quantity, Jayne. And is this really a discussion you wish to hold here?” With a saccharine smile, she swiveled a smooth ninety degrees around, gesturing, to reveal a full table of crewmembers. Crewmembers present every one except Simon, and who - depending on personal disposition - variously gaped, snorted, or glared in their direction. And who Jayne had been workin’ hard to make sure had no idea that he was thinkin’ on the resident moonbrain, or that she gave every sign of reciprocatin’ his, uh, thinkin’. 

 

Jayne had surged to his feet, but checked the forward progress of his charge at the small person before him. Not because he didn’t want her on the floor again, but because he preferred not to put on a show for all the people staring at them. He also didn’t reply to her taunt, since he didn’t want those same people to know River had accused him of snoring. Or that she’d just insulted his whoring. Or that she would (if it were true, which it weren’t) have good reason to know whether he snored. 

 

“If you two are through scarin’ last night's meal out of us, we might like to get back to concentratin’ on this fine breakfast,” drawled Mal’s voice. 

 

“Not that we don’t appreciate the morning wake-up,” Wash inserted quickly, ignoring his wife’s look of warning. “But I’m confused”-

 

“We’re all used to that,” Jayne muttered as he pulled out his chair a fraction of a second later than River did her own. His head was starting to ache where she’d kicked him. “You’re all up kinda early.”

 

“No,” Zoë inserted, dry as always, “You … two … are late.”

 

Jayne hid his wince by glaring at River. Then broke that up when he realized people would wonder why he felt their lateness was her fault. He didn’t want them thinkin’ on that. Even though it was her fault.

 

What with her followin’ him into his bunk after she’d piloted them off-world, a person’d think he’d’ve gotten good and sexed last night. And the person would’ve been dead wrong, gorramit. They’d gotten what she obviously considered hot ‘n heavy (well, if he was honest, it had felt that way to him too), and then she’d backed off. Curled up on the floor beside his bunk and said she wasn’t ready. 

 

Leavin’ him to curse a blue streak, and lecture her about blue balls, and then take care of his very hard problem by himself in the dark. With her right there in the room, because she’d inexplicably refused to leave. After that, he figured she deserved to sleep on the floor with no blanket or anything, but a glimpse of her twisted up with her head on her arm ‘smote his conscience’, like his ma used to say she wished would happen more often. So he ordered River up on the bunk with him, which she didn’t argue at all, and she curled into his side with her dress on. It took awhile but he’d been ‘bout all the way to sleep, despite her disturbing nearness, when she’d said,

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

He’d sighed, and reminded himself how young and crazy she was. Then he’d had to hurry on past that when guilt at her even bein’ in his bunk threatened to rear its head. But he told her it was OK; they wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t ready for. And he’d proceeded to finally fall asleep.

 

And, if River was to be believed, to snore. Which had occasioned this morning's argument.

 

Jayne glared once around the table, hittin’ every nosy person with his eyes for just long enough to convey his ‘leave-us-alone’ message, then reached for the serving bowl. Beside him, River was intently being oblivious to the questions and commands issuing from Kaylee and Mal. As he plopped protein unto his plate Jayne reviewed the level of frustration he’d felt last night, and figured he’d maybe worked some of it out with this morning’s little wrestling match. Or increased it, it was a tough call. Either way the level was rising now as he tried to avoid Mal’s expression and wasn’t quite successful. He wasn’t expecting what he found there, though; Mal looked . . . like he was sending a warning? Not a threat, just a heads-up to a comrade type of thing. That was mighty confusin’.

 

But right then Simon came through the door and Jayne began to frantically revamp his thoughts on how much the captain knew about what was happenin’ with him and River. Because Mal and Zoë looked at each other, Mal nodded, Zoë arched one of those superior brows at Jayne, and rode right over Kaylee and Wash’s questioning voices with a medical question. It shut Kaylee and Wash up and captured Simon’s attention before he even greeted his sister. River, beside Jayne, gave a disturbing little giggle.

 

“I have research to do,” she told her spoonful of protein. Jayne decided it was best to seem to ignore her.

 

When she disappeared after breakfast, though, he felt the need to hunt her down. He didn’t bother tryin’ to figure out why, just chalked it up to lust and went lookin’. He found her up on the bridge, even though bein’ between planets like they were a pilot didn’t necessarily have to be in the seat all the time. She was the only one there when he stepped in. She was bent over the cortex, and held out one ‘wait’ finger in his direction while she flicked back and forth through the information scrolling past on the screen. He crossed his arms and took a private moment to just look at her, watch her movements, and stare at intriguing body parts.

 

“Here!” River’s emphatic vocalization interrupted his perusal of her rounder aspects. She turned to him, nodding. “We will be on Beaumonde next week. Medical facilities exist there. You can be assessed, diagnosed, and treated.”

 

Jayne angled his neck to see around her; she was pointing at the screen, on which flashed the characters for “Tired of waking up tired?” and in English, “Get tested for sleep apnea. Methusaleh’s Sleep Clinic”. Before/after anime flashed, one of a droopy hound-dog-eyed grizzled man, the other of a perky, bright-eyed woman. He shoved aside the thought of how much the brown-haired character looked like River to focus on what the real girl was sayin’.

 

“’scuse me?” Jayne had no clue where her brain was flyin’ off too, but he wasn’t flyin’ with her. “Ain’t nobody gonna be assessin’ me or any of that other stuff you said.” For some reason, an image of River lyin’ on the diagnostic bed on Ariel flickered in his head. Didn’t look like anythin’ he wanted to do.

 

“Your snoring could be because of an obstruction. Your blood oxygen saturation could be dropping while you sleep, Jayne. Do you not care that this can make you tired? Slow your reactions? It can be dangerous even for those who do not live by the gun. Lack of oxygen to the grey matter causes brain damage . . .” her eyes widened suddenly. “Actually, that could explain many of the things you do and say.”

 

“Hey! I may be dumb, but I ain’t got no brain damage, girl. I sleep just fine. No whore ever told me I snore.” He paused, considered that his whores might not be the best subject to add to the conversation. “Anyway, I’m fine, and so’s my reaction speed; didn’t see you complainin’, the last job we was on.”

 

River judged Jayne’s recalcitrant expression and decided to try her hand at some of those feminine wiles she’d heard Captain Daddy whine about a few times. She rose elegantly from her chair, trailing the leg she’d been sitting on so that it caught Jayne’s eye. Smoothing her hand down one thigh, she pressed down to catch her dress material and draw it with her when she moved her hand back up. She took steps toward him while she did it. 

 

“Perhaps,” she breathed, sorting through her head for remembered conversations and trying to speak as Inara might in this situation, “by the time you were cured, I would be … ready . . .” she trailed off, trying to make the silence significant. But Jayne’s eyes were glued to the edge of her skirt, following its course as it exposed more and more leg. River dropped the cloth abruptly, annoyed that he wasn’t listening, and straightened from what she’d hoped was a seductive posture. 

 

“Snoring is unattractive. I will not sleep with a man who does.” After this abrupt speech she brushed past the startled merc, who was still staring at her now-hidden limbs, and out into the corridor. He swiveled to blink after her as she strode away.

 

Visions of pale thighs entwined themselves around the words she’d thrown at him.

 

“Well,” he muttered, “if that ain’t the pettiest thing I’ve ever heard outta you.”

________________________

 

 

River knew Jayne couldn’t figure out why she was in his bunk again. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone besides him inhabiting this space, and she could read the uneasiness radiating from him. She’d brought her own blanket and pillow, and he stared at the edge trailing across the deck as she approached him. But she’d bothered to knock instead of just coming down, and he’d known it was her when he let her in. So she unhesitatingly dropped her things and bent to arrange them into a makeshift bed on the floor. Jayne didn’t say anything, just kept staring, maybe at her nightgown. It was one Simon had purchased, and she’d never given it any thought. Now, though, she glanced down at the plain cotton covering her from neck to ankles. She frowned at it, realizing that except for size it could easily be a little girl’s nightgown.

 

Behind her, Jayne sighed, sitting down on his bunk. He had a t-shirt and shorts on; River eyed them enviously as she seated herself on her folded blanket.

 

“You gonna do this every night?” Jayne wanted to know, from where he’d swung his legs up unto his bunk.

 

River shrugged. “If you like.” She smirked. He glared. But he didn’t say he didn’t like.

 

“Well, I’m not havin’ ya sleep on the deck and get a cold. Yer brother’ll set on me and make me all kinds of discomfort. Get up here.” He was holding back the blanket he’d already climbed under.

 

With a radiant grin, River approached, bringing her pillow and leaving her blanket behind. Jayne lay with his back to his gun wall, holding up the covers; when she was stretched out beside him he lowered them and made sure they were drawn about her shoulders. River turned her head to send him a soft smile as he tucked her in. He jerked his hands back with a scowl, then paused. Bracing an arm on either side of her, he leaned in till his face hovered over hers. River pulled a hand out from under the blanket to run it over his jaw, feeling the prickle of his beard stubble. He growled at her.

 

“You decided yer ready yet?” He rumbled at her, turning his face into her palm. He was pretty sure the answer was no, seein’ she’d been prepared to sleep on the floor. But it couldn’t hurt to ask.

 

Sure ‘nuf, River sighed and shook her head. But her eyes looked regretful, so he didn’t snipe at her. Instead, he took heart and lay back down beside her. He left his arms as they had been, though. One draped over hers and across her tummy. River snaked her hand around till it lay on his forearm, and made a little purr of contentment that vibrated through his chest and caused stirrin’ in lower parts of his anatomy. He focused on calming that down, which was an effort; it wasn’t his way, wasn’t something he usually bothered to do. River dropped off to sleep while he lay starin’ at the darkened room and wonderin’ what was happenin’ to him. He had a gorgeous woman in his room, in his bunk, in his arms, and he wasn’t sexin’ her. And he hadn’t even made a real fuss about it. The ‘verse was upside down.

_______________________________

 

Jayne roused with difficulty the next morning. He’d always come awake slow, unless there was a reason to snap to alertness. And today he had an added excuse; this was the second night he’d spent with someone he wasn’t sexin’. It was just an odd thing to be doin’, and even wrong. He told River’s back so as he pulled on clean pants and a shirt. Then she made him turn his back as she climbed into a dress he hadn’t noticed she had with her last night. 

 

He swiveled back around when she laid her hand on his arm; she raised up on her tip-toes to brush a sweet swift kiss over his cheek and he decided maybe it wasn’t so wrong that they take it slow. Slow like the kiss he pulled her into, ‘cus no cheek-kissin’ was enough. He made it deep and moist and heavy, molding her form to his and lettin’ her get a literal taste of what she was missin’. She sighed under the demands of his mouth, opened for him like he’d been teachin’ her to do, and their tongues met with a sudden ferocity that startled him. He wasn’t too experienced at the kissin’ thing; River was the only person he’d kissed in pro’ly ten years, not countin’ his Ma. And this was certainly not how he kissed his Ma …

 

River was pulling away, and he let her go regretfully. He observed her quickened breathing and flushed face with smug satisfaction, while she used his comb on her hair. After he made sure there was no one in the corridor to see her climb out of his bunk, they hustled up the ladder. And then River chose to revisit yesterday's argument.

 

Jayne growled at her. “Ya gonna threaten ‘bout not sleepin’ with me again? Because I gotta say, if we’re not gonna be sexin’, I don’t see the point. Ya might as well stay in yer own bunk.”

 

River stopped and moved so she could see him straight-on. “There is a point,” she assured him. “I am attempting to adjust the priorities of both of us. When they match, we may proceed.”

 

That didn’t make no sense a-tall. “You can’t readjust my priorities, moonbrain. They’re mine.” He'd never taken the time before, but he paused to mentally sort those priorities. It didn't take long, they were simple; first, stay alive. Second, stay happy, which meant stay as sexed and as monied as possible.

 

“Really, Jayne,” River said softly, “Are you happy? I think happy people aren’t so grumpy.”

 

“I’m not grumpy,” he grumped at her. She grinned. 

 

“I think you would be happy, with different priorities. Less money, more family. Less sexing, more loving.”

 

He just blinked at her for a minute. Less sexin’? Weren’t gonna happen, he didn’t get enough as it was, out here in the black.

 

“That’s what you’re tryin’ to readjust my priorities to? Family and lovin’?”

 

River dropped eye contact sudden-like, and shrugged. Like maybe she thought she’d said too much. He didn’t know if he was angry, or shocked or what; she was tryin’ to rearrange his whole ‘verse-view. What could he say to that, except ‘ain’t no ruttin’ way’? Actually, he wasn’t sure that really was what he wanted to say. And now she was gettin' him confused.

 

River’s grin was back. Maybe she was readin’ him. He reached out and yanked hard on a lock of soft brown hair, and she scowled ferociously at him, punched at his arm. He laughed when she hit her mark, solidly; and then chased after her as she swung away giggling.

 

So for the second morning in a row they made a commotion entering the galley. Those already sitting at table looked up to the sound of pounding booted feet, Jayne’s growls, and a thud followed by River’s laughing screech. River skidded to a halt just inside the door, then straightened her shoulders and her hair and walked sedately to her chair. Jayne pressed his hand to a shoulder he knew was at least bruised and followed after, gracing everyone with a morning frown, and trying to ignore Mal’s smirk.

 

“Well, now, you two are just so interesting lately.” It was Wash’s drawl; trust him to not be able to keep his mouth shut. Neither Kaylee nor Simon was yet present, so Jayne just shook his head. 

 

“No we’re not,” he told the pilot, in what for him passed as a mild tone.

 

“Yes we are,” River contradicted from beside him. Jayne kicked her and tried to give her a significant look, like the private ones Zoë was always sendin’ Wash. But it didn’t work. 

 

“We’re veeerry interesting.” River inored Jayne's agitation and blessed the room’s only married couple with a look so superior it put any one of Zoë’s to shame. “We're much more interesting than the two of you.”

 

“I'm not sure if I resent that or not,” Zoë said with an undertone of laughter. River shrugged and took a bite. Seeing her mouth was full enough to keep her from talkin’ and gettin’ them in more trouble, Jayne saw to his own breakfast. So the room and its occupants appeared quite normal when Simon and Kaylee entered it a few moments later.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Simon beat River and Jayne to the table. He was seated before he noticed that no one else was serving them self. All attention was on the empty doorway. He glanced around and registered who was missing, and realized they were waiting for River and/or Jayne.

 

When those two appeared, though, there didn’t seem anything significant about their arrival, aside from the fact that they were together. Hmm . . . Simon’s eyes began to narrow as he followed his sister’s walk across the room. Jayne was following, focused completely on the breakfast that was laid out. They weren’t interacting at all, but there was something . . . they looked like they were _together_. Not in a just-met-in-the-corridor manner, but in a walked-here-with-each-other way. It wasn’t something Simon had observed them to do before. Speculations percolating through his mind, he watched them serve themselves, all with a quiet companionship that was notable only for its newness.

 

“So,” Mal’s voice, so devoid of expression that Simon glanced over check the look on his face, “we’re a mite calm this morning.” Just that, nothing in it to stimulate the glare Jayne sent his way. Had there been a slight emphasis on the word ‘this’? Simon heard Wash choke back a snort, and when he looked that way Zoë was giving her husband one of those private ‘hush-up’ looks.

 

“I for one am glad to see you two getting along better,” Simon asserted, giving his sister a proud-big-brother nod.

 

Wash snorted again, and Simon heard “what they’re _getting_ is”- before Zoë muttered a warning, “husband.” What was that about?

 

Kaylee hastened to lend Simon her support.

 

“Especially if you two are going to be tussling like you did yesterday. It’s nice when it’s all about fun, but if anybody’s angry that can get dangerous …” her voice trailed off as she saw Simon’s burgeoning trepidation.

 

“What tussling, honey?” He asked.

 

Kaylee laughed. “Oh, yesterday these two came in here all”-

 

“Next week we are on Beaumonde,” River inserted loudly. Her eyebrows made a demand of Mal that Simon couldn’t interpret.

 

“That we are,” Mal agreed affably. He even smiled down the table at her, but to Simon it seemed a rather pointed smile. Really, what was going on?

 

“Jayne needs medical attention. He snores.” River took a calm bite of protein egg.

 

Simon laughed, overriding an exclaimed curse from Jayne. “Now, how would you know that, mei-mei? Did he fall asleep in the cargo bay or something?” It took him a moment to register the suspended and alert postures around him. Across the table, Jayne had jerked, spilling the glass of water in his hand, while yelping “Quiet, girl!” Mal had turned wholly towards River and was making shushing noises. Wash and Zoë were staring with an expectancy that Simon didn’t understand; Inara and Kaylee, he took comfort in seeing, looked as confused as he did.

 

River ignored them all, staring straight across the table and into her brother’s once-again leery eyes.

 

“He snored in his bunk last night while I was trying to sleep with him.”

 

Jayne’s hand clamped over her mouth, a moment too late. Simon’s entire body flash-froze. Kaylee ‘eep’ed beside him, and put a hand to her lips; if he’d been able to move, he’d have seen that her astonished eyes took up half her face.

 

“River,” Inara whispered, and that was all anyone seemed able to say. Including Simon.

 

“RIVER!” His version was a lot louder than Inara’s. Then he managed, “that’s – not funny?” The sentence ended in a pleading question, begging her to laugh and say this was one of her little jokes on him, like the berries that weren’t poisonous.

 

River, having shaken off Jayne’s hand, was pitiless. She took a swallow of water before answering, letting her brother stew in agonizing uncertainty. Then she seemed to decide that he wasn’t stupefied enough.

 

“The night before that, he snored so loud I couldn’t sleep. And I was worn out from the strenuous exertions in which we had indulged.”

 

Kaylee’s breath whooshed out.

 

“There goes all the peace and quiet on my boat,” Mal sighed.

 

Simon found himself able to move, a bit; his head hunched into his shoulders, while Wash began to chortle and Inara shook her head. Zoë’s and Mal’s gazes met over the other’s heads.

 

“Put some food on your plate, doc, and eat while you try to think,” Mal said, reaching to follow his own advice. “Everybody eat. Food’s getting’ cold.”

 

But Jayne had wrapped a fist around River’s arm and hauled her to her feet, just as Simon was turning his stricken gaze toward the other man in desperate hope that he would deny River’s claims.

 

“Need to have a talk,” Jayne bit out, and River rolled her eyes but went with him out the door, leaving protein congealing on her plate and crew to stare at each other. Simon couldn’t get up, couldn’t even watch them, but he heard Jayne begin with, “you tryin’ to git me killed?” before the two were too far away for effective eavesdropping.

 

Simon blinked down at his empty plate a moment, starting violently when Kaylee scooped faux bacon unto it. Then he turned to her with a pitiful air, as feeling starting to seep back into his body.

 

“You didn’t just hear River say she and Jayne are – are”– he couldn’t say it.

 

Kaylee nodded sprightly. “Yep. Sure is a surprise, ain’t it?”

 

“A surprise? A SURPRISE!?” Simon knew he was gasping like a landed fish, but couldn’t stop himself. “This is not a surprise. This is a horror. Of catastrophic proportions. He’s the man-ape. And she’s”-

 

“A full-grown person, able to make her own decisions.” Mal cut in. Simon shook his head and hoped he looked as betrayed by that as he felt.

 

“Don’t tell me you approve of this. This, this – it’s unspeakable! It’s a crime against … I don’t know …” Kaylee must have sensed how lost he felt, because she draped her arm about his shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze.

 

“Actually, it’s not a crime, ever since River’s eighteenth birthday. On some worlds, not since her sixteenth. Or fourteenth even,” Wash offered.

 

“Not helpful, dear,” Zoë told him.

 

“What? It’s true. And it’s not as if we’re so worried about what’s legal, on this boat, anyway.”

 

“It’s not MORAL!” Simon roared, jerking to his feet, Kaylee’s arm falling to her side. Simon advanced to Wash’s seat to loom threateningly over the smaller, seated man. “How can you sit there and glibly brush off the violation of my little sister, my mei-mei? You smarmy little”-

 

“You don’t want to be finishing that sentence,” Zoë warned, rising to her feet from Wash’s other side to face off against Simon. Simon’s fist clenched and his shoulder muscles rippled visibly. Zoë met his gaze flatly. Trapped between his warrior-wife and the suddenly amok doctor, Wash raised a finger.

 

“’scuse me lamby-toes, Mr. Hyde, but how about I just retract my own statement and we avoid violence?”

 

“Won’t be violence of any kind happenin’,” Mal asserted, pushing his plate away with a regretful sigh and standing. It was quite apparent he wasn’t going to get any breakfast this morning. “Simon, go cool off somewhere. Somewhere not also occupied by my officer, my mercenary, my pilot, or my psychic. Pretty much be alone or with Kaylee. Wash, go check our heading. Kaylee, calm down your … whatever he is, if he’s so inclined. Inara”—he’d been on a roll handing out orders, but stumbled as the Companion’s lifted brows reminded him he didn’t have a job he could busy her with. She wasn’t the problem, anyway.

 

Simon turned his glare on the captain, appeared to debate punching him, then moved to the exit with an inaudible mutter. Kaylee took hesitant steps after him; Mal could only hope she’d have sense enough to steer him away from anywhere Jayne and River might have gotten to.

 

Outside, Kaylee laid her hand on Simon’s shoulder and peered anxiously up at him. He ran a hand down his face, met her gaze, and made a conscious effort to relax his muscles. She looked a little frightened, he realized ashamedly. One of the last things he ever wanted to do was scare his bao-bei.

 

“Are you all right?” She asked him.

 

“No, I’m not.” He managed a small sickly grimace that a blind person might, if bribed well enough, have taken for a smile. “Can’t you tell?”

 

She nodded. “Got that right. Simon, you threatened Wash. _Wash_! Of all the people” -

 

A rueful wince rode Simon’s cheeks. “Yeah, I did.” He shook his head. “Guess I should go apologize, huh?” But his face when he turned it back to the galley wasn’t in the least peaceable. His lids narrowed again and his shoulders tightened back up.

 

“Not right now,” Kaylee advised, using her hand to steer him the other way. “You really do gotta cool off first. No sense chargin’ around like Jayne would. You use your head.” Simon wasn’t sure if that last sentence was a description or a command. He winced again, at the comparison to the hulking merc who was, was –

 

“Stop!” That was definitely a command. “Just stop that, Simon, I don’t think he’s gonna hurt her. Haven’t you seen the way they’ve been lately, all playful-like? I don’t know why we’re surprised, come to think of it. They’ve been flirtin’ like cra - like everything, right under our noses, too.”

 

Simon just barely restrained the glare he felt at the grin on his lover’s face. Then he checked himself. “You’re right,” he said slowly. Then, more firmly; “you’re absolutely right.” He nodded resolutely and began to stride off. Kaylee hurried to catch up.

 

“I’m right? Of course I’m right. What am I right about?”

 

“It’s not Wash who deserves a beating.”

 

_____________________________

 

 

 

It was a moment before River realized Jayne had brought her to her dorm room. She knew he wasn’t happy with her, but she went along willingly, and slid the door shut behind them. With Jayne in the small space, she felt rather swamped, which was odd; his bunk was smaller, and she’d never felt this way in there with him. Maybe it was just his masculinity in her feminine space. Not that she had anything overtly female, or even very personal, to leave around . . .

 

Jayne was speaking. She blinked and focused in half-way through a sentence. But before he could finish whatever it was there were voices outside her door, Simon’s and Kaylee’s.

 

“—just sayin’ Simon, not that you’re not all manly and such, ‘cus ya _are_ , but – but Jayne would pound you. You don’t have a chance.”

  

“Thanks,” Simon told Kaylee, wryness incarnate, “I appreciate your confidence. Anyway that’s not the point.”

 

“What is the point?”

 

“It’s about principle. He can’t be touching her, or thinking about her! Not _my_ sister!”

 

“How exactly is you gettin’ beat to a pulp gonna stop that from happenin’?”

 

Jayne smirked down at River, who’d moved in close to him. She frowned at him; he pushed an arm across her shoulders and massaged her arm.

 

Kaylee had Simon stymied, for a moment. Then he charged on.

 

“At least River will see how much I disapprove, and put a stop this foolishness. This atrocity!”

 

“Mmm, so you do admit that she likes him. That she’s with him by her own free choosin’. And that Jayne’d stop if she wanted to. So what are you arguin’ should be happenin’ here?” Kaylee’s voice was pert. River covered her mouth to silence her own giggle. Jayne and River stood and unabashedly eavesdropped as Kaylee argued Simon to a standstill. There was silence out in the hall, then an ages-old sound; a longsuffering female sigh.

 

“Come on, Simon, let’s sit down and talk ‘bout this. Logically.”

 

Amazingly enough, he went. Jayne let out the laugh he’d been holdin’ in – not that he was hidin’ from the doc, just didn’t want to discomfit River. Despite the fact that this was the most trouble he’d ever had over any girl, much less one he wasn’t even sexin’. Not that he planned to fill the doc in on that little detail.

 

“Li’l Kaylee sure has learned how to manage yer brother,” he told the girl pressed into his side. River leaned back to bless him with one of those smiles that were so beautiful, they made his insides hurt.

 

“Yes. I am taking notes.”

 

____________________________

 

The following day was one filled with terse silences and infrequent bouts of Wash’s gentle sarcasm. Simon made it through most of the day without breaking down, and Kaylee was proud. She told him he was growing.

 

“Growing, huh?” he asked her. “You thought I was repressed before? Not acting on my current urges is going to drive me right over into serial killer territory.”

 

Kaylee smiled softly and stroked his hair; she might have taken more severe action if she’d forseen the moment Simon came upon Jayne on the bridge. With River in his lap. With all her limbs wrapped around him.

 

Simon’s howl echoed far enough through Serenity to bring everyone running. Mal got there first, and a pile-up of bodies ensued behind him in the doorway; after being poked and shoved enough, he moved aside to clear the view.

 

Contrary to Kaylee’s earlier words to Simon, no one was beaten to a pulp, and in fact it was Jayne climbing up from the floor, rubbing his jaw. But the evident culprit, Simon, was robbed of his manly glory by way of being bent backwards over one of the piloting consoles, held there by River’s hand and forearm against his neck and her knee in his groin. She was applying pressure. Kaylee flew to Simon’s side to plead with River to let go.

 

River only leaned in further, eliciting a strangled groan from her brother. Jayne walked up behind her to peer with approval at her technique.

 

“Never again,” River said slowly and quiet. “You will not do that, about this, again.”

 

“River,” Simon managed to squeak, and her arm muscles jerked in a way that had him nodding frantically. She released him and he slid down the console a bit before Kaylee got an arm around him and helped him to the nearest pilot’s chair.

 

“River,” began Mal, eying both Simon and Jayne as River stood between them, “that may have been, ah, excessive.”

 

“No.” She said it with absolute certainty. “It must be understood that I make my own choices. Those who feel that I am making incorrect ones will address me, rationally, with their concerns. If you are going to hit Jayne, Simon, do it over something else.”

 

Simon’s expression declared he’d find that something else if it took his last living breath from him.

 

“What I want to know,” Wash said, pushing in near enough to Jayne to peer at his jaw, “is how Simon got around _both_ our government-trained assassin and our down-and-dirty mercenary’s defenses to land a punch that good.” Zoë looked over, and her brows rose. “Jayne, do you think anything’s broken?”

 

“Naw,” he replied, though it clearly hurt to speak, “bruised pretty good, though.” That was an understatement; his upper jaw and cheekbone were swollen to half again their normal size; the skin was split and purpling was beginning to appear.

 

“We were too distracted to notice Simon’s intrusion,” River said, regret in her voice. Surprisingly enough, Wash didn’t choose to make the obvious acerbic remark.

 

Simon straightened from his seat with a sigh.

 

“Come on, then,” he said quietly, “let’s go make certain I didn’t break any bones. And clean up that blood.”

 

Jayne clearly wanted to protest, but River laid her hand on his arm and he went. Mal noticed, Kaylee noticed, everyone noticed. This easy acquiescence from their normally-intractable crewmate gave more than one of them food for thought as they trundled back to their respective duties. Mal sent Zoë to the infirmary just to make sure no more blood was spilled while Simon patched up the damage he’d done.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

The end of the following week found Serenity on Beaumonde and Jayne, reluctantly, exiting the ship with River. Not that he didn’t want to be with her, but he didn’t want to be doin’ this.   

It was ridiculous.  She’d continued to insist he needed medical attention and he’d given in, gracelessly, finally, just to stop her nagging him.  And because, a few times, her serious concern crept through when she was talkin’ about his health. She’d eye him when he was extra-grumpy mornings, like it was a dire symptom.  She didn’t believe him when he told her he just wasn’t a morning person, or that if she’d let him do more than just hold her at night it’d go a long way toward repairin’ this particular mood.  She was more annoying than he usually felt like puttin’ up with, but he also didn’t want her to decide he wasn’t worth the bother. So he figured, once medical people took his side – that he didn’t snore – she’d a) have to shut up about it and b) quit worryin’.

It was early afternoon, planet-time, but ship-time they’d already put in a whole day’s work.  The clinic River was dragging him to was near the port and never closed, to accommodate the differing sleep cycles of ships’ crew and passengers.  Jayne’s appointment was scheduled for an hour from now.  He carried a small bag with a change of clothes, as did River. 

She’d continued to sleep in his bunk over the past ten days, despite Simon’s protests.  As angry as the doctor had been over the crew interfering with his sibling relationship, he’d slowly bent to Kaylee’s tender insistence that he simply didn’t have the right to decide these things for River.  He settled for making his displeasure known, vocally and loudly, at every possible turn.  River and Jayne had tacitly agreed to let it ride, for now. 

Their interactions over the past week had grown increasingly awkward, though, as Jayne contemplated what being with River meant.  It meant long-term, ‘cus weren’t no way he could sex a crewmate and then leave off, without the balance of the ship being upset somethin’ fierce.  He didn’t want that to happen, he liked things pretty well as they were.  It took awhile of thinkin’, but he came to see that he also didn’t want to switch crews or ships.  And he thought he was comin’ to want River enough to put up with her brother’s whinin’.  

He didn’t know how to behave in this situation.  And he had a feelin’, from River’s increasing hesitance, that neither did she.

The clinic was all sterile whites and clean cool blues, a bit too much like the Ariel hospital for Jayne’s comfort.  He sneaked sideways looks at River until he decided she wasn’t bothered by the atmosphere at all, and that somehow irked him.  They were greeted and led to a small windowless room by a young nurse with a bedside manner so like Simon Tam’s that Jayne’d like t’ ‘ve gagged.

Jayne changed clothes as directed, filled out the forms that were thrust at him, and laid down in what he had to admit was a more comfortable bed than what he had on Serenity.   The snottily soothing nurse began to explain the procedure to him while River slipped into a nearby bathroom to change, herself.  There was a reclining chair provided for her in one corner. 

Clad in her long nightgown, River returned as a technician was unwrapping electrodes to apply to various areas of Jayne’s skull.  She watched with a curious third-person detachment; she’d seen similar actions so many times, but never when the ensuing procedures were to be done on someone else, not her. She was shaken out of her dislocation by Jayne’s growl.

“Nobody said anythin’ ‘bout stickin’ my head all over with those things!”

The tech paused in polite confusion.

“This is how we monitor brain wave patterns, Mr. Cobb.  It will indicate your level of consciousness, among other things.” She pulled the backing off one and reached to apply the sticky side to his temple.

Jayne caught her wrist before she reached her target and glared.

“I know you’ve got other ways, machines that read the patterns right out of the air. Use one of those.”

The tech sighed as she lowered her arms.

“There is such equipment, sir, but it’s much more expensive to use.  Truly, you will experience no discomfort.”

“Yeah?” Jayne sneered.  “Ever have one a those sticky things pulled offa yer chest hair? Hurts like  _ge zhen de hundan_ *. I ‘spect head hair ain’t gonna feel much better.”

“Mm, actually, Mr. Cobb, we will be applying electrodes to your chest, too.  To monitor your heart.”  She hastened to hold up a razor, while smiling reassuringly.  “Don’t worry; the nurse will shave you first.” 

“Shave my chest?”  Jayne’s voice pitch went so high it cracked.  “You’re more _feng le_  than my  _xin gan*_ , here.”

River, who’d been laughing quietly to herself, perked up at the endearment.  She knew he didn’t even realize he’d said it, as he continued to glare.

The tech leaned out the door to call the nurse, and left when he answered, apparently not feeling it in her job description to deal with noncompliant patients.  The nurse entered with that smooth calm-the-patient manner that so irritated Jayne. He paused at the sink to wash his hands, and River questioned Jayne in a low voice.

“Why don’t you wish to have the electrodes applied, Jayne?  I know it is not the pain that you fear.” 

Jayne grimaced.

“It’s partly those cords,” he said, gesturing to the thin filaments running from the electrodes to the bed’s monitors. They gathered neatly together and disappeared into the machine, and River could not understand what was so offensive about them.

“They make me feel – tied up.  Don’t like cords on me. Don’t like my movement constricted.  Prob’ly won’t be able to sleep.” He ended on a petulant note.  River quashed the sympathy in her chest and rolled her eyes. 

“If one of us has a reason to dislike medical equipment it is me, Jayne.  And if _you_  thought  _I_  needed to have a medical procedure done, I would do it.”

“Really.” Abruptly, there was pure deviltry in Jayne’s voice. Visions of breast augmentation and luridly crude tattoos were suddenly dancing before River’s mind’s eye.

“I meant, anything medically necessary. For health reasons.  That I  _needed_. Medically.” She backpedaled so hurriedly that her words came out in disjointed phrases. Jayne laughed and relaxed back on the bed. But, to her satisfaction, he nodded to the nurse.

“Go ahead and put them ‘lectrodes on. But no shavin’!  Think I wanna have my whole chest itchin’ when it grows back in?”

Over his own better judgment, the nurse applied the electrodes, since Jayne’s chest hair wasn’t so thick that it would seriously impede the electrical signals that needed to be passed.  River caught enough emotion off him that said he felt this patient deserved the impending pain that would be dealt when they were pulled off. Finally, with everything set up, the nurse clicked off the lights, River retired to her chair with a blanket, and Jayne rolled over unto his front to try to sleep. Sleep, the reason he was here.

 

River listened to his soft breathing and knew he hadn’t drifted off yet. Ten minutes went by.  Jayne flipped unto his back.  Another half-hour, and he turned to the other side.  A loud sigh issued forth. River stifled a giggle.  An hour in, Jayne was fussing with his blankets and experimenting with raising and lowering the head of the bed. The nurse made an appearance to advise Jayne to just relax, and would he like to read or watch the cortex?  Jayne’s ‘no’ was snarled.  The nurse left with an “I’m being very longsuffering” set to his shoulders and Jayne continued to struggle. River closed her eyes and tried to tune him out.

It had been nearly three hours of tossing and turning when Jayne found a new button and let out a startled cry as the foot of the bed elevated and the head lowered.  There was no headboard in place, and Jayne slid off.

River jumped to her feet to see if he was hurt as the lights flicked on.  The nurse, a truly aggrieved expression on his face, stood with hands on hips to observe his patient, sprawled on the floor.  Jayne was unhurt, but he’d mangled his lines and pulled loose his electrodes.  He shook off River’s hands and stood on his own, his sheet pulled around him like some comic Greek ancient, and climbed back into the bed.  She heard him hissing “when we get back to the boat you’d better be good and appreciative of this.”  River glared at him while the nurse applied new electrodes with jerky, annoyed movements.

“How did you even find the Trendelenberg button, Mr. Cobb?  It’s on the underside of the foot of the bed.  You would have to have been  _hanging_   _off_   the end -- It’s not anywhere a patient’s hands should be.”

Jayne shrugged and muttered something incoherent. River could have sworn his cheeks had a red tinge. The nurse finished reattaching lines and added his glare to River’s when he ordered that all the bed’s buttons be left untouched.  Jayne glared back.  The nurse flung his arms out and left.

“Jayne,” River said quietly once he was gone, “what is wrong?  You don’t commonly have this much difficulty achieving sleep.”

Jayne shook his head, and she trailed back to her chair.  All was quiet for a few moments, then his voice sounded low in the dark room.

“It’s you.”

River didn’t know what he meant; she sat up to look towards his bed and listen.

“I’ve had you beside me, sleepin’, fer the last twelve nights.  Guess I got . . . used to you bein’ there.  Now I’m not used to havin’ you gone.” She dimly saw his shoulders rise in a shrug.  “Can’t sleep, ‘cus somethin’s missin.” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

She sat in the dark stillness, feeling a smile creep over her lips.  Then she stood and padded over to him.

“You miss me?” she questioned softly, standing at his bedside.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’.”

 This was of import, River thought.  She wasn’t sure exactly how, but it seemed a crucial thing, that Jayne missed her presence enough that he couldn’t sleep. She slowly pulled down the blanket and sheet, and when there was no protest either from Jayne or from those who were monitoring patterns from outside the room, she slid herself in beside him.  The bed wasn’t large but it was wider than the one they’d been sharing on the ship.  He rolled unto his side and she tucked in against him. He cuddled – it was cuddling, though he’d never admit it – cuddled her into him.  Fifteen minutes later he was asleep. But only after he'd gruffly whispered,   
  
"Don't know that I ever wanna sleep without you again."

_______________________

 * ge zhen de hundun; a real bastard

 Xin gan; sweetheart


	4. Chapter 4

A bag settled loudly on the floor. A hulking shadow loomed in over the screen where Nurse Rei was inputting data from last night’s shift. Knowing full well who it was standing at his desk, Rei slowly finished the entirety of the sentence he was typing with his stylus before looking up with a calm professional mien.   
  
“May I help you?”   
  
“I’m waitin’ to hear you tell this girl a’ mine that I don’t snore.” The patient of the previous night, Jayne Cobb, gestured at the dainty ‘girl’ who was dwarfed beside his large form. “Then we’ll go.”   
  
The nurse set down the stylus and leaned back in his chair. He’d had a long night, and he was tired, due in no small way to the patient standing before him. The man had finally fallen asleep, thanks to the intervention of his, um, girlfriend. But this morning Mr. Cobb had been more querulous and snappy than he had the night before. A laceration was found on his hand, presumably from the fall out of bed. When the nurse had tried to disinfect and dress it, he’d been rudely rebuffed. The patient had then proceeded to complain about everything; the distance to the shower room, the temperature of the water, and how long it was taking to get out of “this dump”, as he termed the state-of-the-art facility. And as for the howling that had ensued when the electrodes had to be pulled out of his chest hair – better not to remember that.   
  
Well, no one was asking the nurse – no one ever did – but he had a few complaints too. He crossed his arms over the ID tag that read ‘Nurse Rei’ and leveled a deadpan gaze at Jayne.   
  
“Oh, you snore, Mr. Cobb. You definitely snore.”   
  
“See?” Mr. Cobb swung a triumphant look to his – whatever she was, who’d stayed the night with him. “If you’d a’ listened to me, we wouldn’t – wait. What?” He turned a confused look back to the other man.   
  
Viewing the displeasure on his uncooperative patient’s face, the nurse gave in to temptation and followed his un-nursey bent to twist the knife a bit.   
  
“You snore louder than anyone I’ve had in here in the past month. I have no idea how the little lady managed to sleep.” He turned to River solicitously. “We do offer earplugs in our complimentary family package. You’ll find them in a small yellow box.”   
  
“Thank-you,” River murmured, ducking her head to hide her grin. Unbeknownst to the healthcare worker, her spine had stiffened somewhat at the condescending “little lady”. But she was also enjoying Jayne’s disgruntlement. And her heart had hitched curiously at Jayne calling her his girl. Last night, she’d been his sweetheart. She was really enjoying hearing these things come from his lips.   
  
“No.” Jayne was saying flatly in response to the nurse’s assertion. “I don’t snore.”   
  
“I have the capture here.” Rei pulled it from a pile and across his desk. “Would you like to see?” Please let me show you. He knew his glee was probably poorly hidden, but he was feeling just unprofessional enough not to care.   
  
Mr. Cobb gestured brusquely for him to pass it over. He did so, and sat back once more to watch the reaction.   
  
The recording had been edited down to the pertinent sections. Mr. Cobb turned it on. Watching, Nurse Rei didn’t bother to restrain his smirk at the expression on his patient’s face. The large, perpetually annoyed and annoying man stared with patent disbelief at the image of himself in the hospital bed, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, a stream of cyclic noise issuing forth. The young, intense woman was shown tucked into his side, her own eyes wide open, because who could sleep through that din?   
  
The patient was beginning to growl. Rei had never actually heard a person do that before; it was an intimidating sound, and a little apprehension began to adulterate his enjoyment of the other’s befuddlement. After less than a minute Mr. Cobb flung the capture back at him. The nurse caught it smoothly and then produced the other records made during the night. Spreading them out, he solicitously began to interpret their findings.   
  
“What’s this?” Jayne was pointing at readout of brain wave and EKG patterns. There were squiggly lines towards the beginning that were much wilder than farther on. Nurse Rei pursed his lips.   
  
“That is artifact from your, ah, restless period.” When Mr. Cobb scowled but said nothing, Rei pushed a little more. “This section here is where you fell out of the bed, and we had to replace the electrodes.”   
  
Ms. Tam smothered a laugh, he was certain. Mr. Cobb only glared more ferociously. The lines of that expression seemed to be well-accustomed ones, and Rei speculated happily that the man would have some very unattractive wrinkles in a few more years.   
  
“I plan to be an impediment to that process,” Ms. Tam said, quite out of the blue. Rei swung a puzzled gaze her way but she was employed with separating out another piece of readout.   
  
“What about this?” she asked, and her voice held concern. Rei looked it over.   
  
“This indicates the level of oxygen in your” – he had to pause, still unable to come up with a descriptive word for what his rough, uncouth patient might be to this lively but cultured person. “- in Mr. Cobb’s blood, throughout the night. As you can see, it drops as low as 83% in some places.”   
  
“That doesn’t sound like a good thing,” she said softly. Mr. Cobb shifted on his feet. If his scowl became any fiercer – well, Rei was unable to imagine that it could become any fiercer.   
  
“No, those are lower levels than we want to see. Intervention is certainly indicated. Mr. Cobb does have sleep apnea. He had apneic periods – where he stopped breathing – for a total of eighty-four times, last night.”   
  
“Why?” Mr. Cobb finally asked. Despite the dangerous air that rode him like a shroud, his voice was somehow pitiful. Rei assumed his soothing nurse air again as he produced his final piece of evidence, unrolling it before them.   
  
“Mr. Cobb, have you ever had an injury to your nose, such as a fracture?”   
  
The man just looked at him as though he was the greatest idiot who had ever breathed air. The young woman, Ms. Tam, giggled softly. Taking a second look at his bad-tempered, obviously disreputable patient, Nurse Rei admitted it was a rather stupid question. Of course the man had had his nose broken, probably innumerable times.   
  
“Er, yes.” He cleared his throat while Mr. Cobb smirked. “Well, this” – he pointed to the diagnostic image they’d taken the night before -“shows that you have a deviated septum. And here”- he moved his finger slightly – “your soft tissues have, as a result, prolapsed into your airway.”   
  
He could tell Mr. Cobb had no idea what he was being told, and that his frustration level was rising. Large fists –ridiculously large, really -- were clenching on the desk. Nurse Rei took an unconscious step back; he just looked so mean. Ms. Tam, however, reached up with an utter lack of unease and touched an elegant finger to the decidedly inelegant appendage in question.   
  
“The middle wall in your nose, here,” she said, “has been pushed to one side. It has made some of the tissue of your nose move, too, so that it gets in the way of your breathing.” She traced a very gentle hand up that nose once, inexplicably tenderly. Nurse Rei cleared his throat uncomfortably. It was such a strange sight, the slight young thing handling the large untamed man with gentleness. And even more strangely, it worked. Mr. Cobb was noticeably calmer - gentled - when he turned back toward the desk.   
  
“So, what can you do about it?”   
  
The nurse reached to add yet another item to the growing collection before him. “We can recommend a number of excellent surgeons, on this world or most of those within a week’s flight.”   
  
“Surgeons? You mean like – surgery?”   
  
Nurse Rei nodded.   
  
Jayne Cobb shook his head. And he turned and walked off, without another word.   
  
Ms. Tam hurriedly collected their copies of the testing results and the list of recommended surgeons, stowing them in her bag. She asked politely for a copy of the payment receipt, and even thanked him, before hurrying off after her – boyfriend? Lover? Rei still couldn’t determine what to call them. And he couldn’t figure out why he cared, either, except that they were such a strange couple.   
  
But that word, at least, fit. They were definitely a couple.   
__________________________________   
  
River caught up with Jayne just outside the clinic’s doors. They walked together silently to the shuttle that would transport them back to the port where Serenity waited. There was quiet during the ride. River was caught up in her own worry over the test results and how she was going to convince Jayne that he needed to do something about his problem.   
  
So she jumped a bit in surprise when he spoke as they exited the shuttle.   
  
“Guess I won’t be seein’ ya tonight, then.” It was said gruffly, staring at the ground. River frowned.   
  
“Why not?”   
  
“Said ya wouldn’t sleep with a man what snored. They can’t fix me; figured ya wouldn’t be comin’ to m’ bunk no more.”   
  
River winced with the twinge of guilt that snaked into her chest. “That was a tactical untruth. I said it to maneuver you.”   
  
They hadn’t moved, so he couldn’t stop walking, but River nevertheless caught an impression of movement ceasing. He was suddenly still, in a way that betrayed his non-motion of a moment earlier as having been unrest.   
  
“You mean, you’ll be there? Tonight?”   
  
“Yes,” River whispered. She wasn’t looking at him. “If you want me.”   
  
“I want you.” Jayne sighed. “Just don’t know what I’m gonna do about it.”   
  
“I don’t either.”   
  
“You don’t know what I’m gonna to do ‘bout wanting you? Or you don’t know what you’re gonna do?” Now that they were out of the clinic, Jayne felt a little more at ease, despite their topic, and he let himself smile a bit.   
  
“Either one. Both.” There was an insect of some sort across the way. River stared after it. Then she assumed a mock-tragic expression.   
  
“Lack of oxygen. Brain damage. It really does explain so many things about you, Jayne.” With a giggle, she avoided his lunge for her; they made it part of the way across the port until he caught up to her. Then she stopped and stood while he wrapped big gentle hands around her arms and pulled her awkwardly up against his chest. The bag she carried over her shoulder bumped against her back and pushed her closer. Jayne’s leer down at her was playful.   
  
“Maybe you’re right. I must be damaged. It would help explain why I want you so bad.”   
  
Ahh. River let the cat’s smile leap from her heart to her face.   
  
“Or good.”   
  
“Huh?”   
  
She rubbed her cheek against the cloth of his shirt, and stretched up on her legs. “I want you bad, too. And good. And angry, sad, happy, excited … I want you all the ways I can get you.” She let her arms curve around the sturdy bulk of the man and hug him to her. It was time for honesty. “I want to keep you. We already live dangerously. I don’t want to increase the already high chance that I could lose you.”   
  
Jayne shifted on his feet, once, and slid a hand through the ends of her hair. They were soft and reminded him of the tips of kitten’s tails.   
  
“You’re not gonna.” He blew out a pursed sigh, and avoided her gaze by staring at other interesting parts of her body. If he let himself look at her eyes too long he forgot what he was saying. “I think ya got me. For good.”   
  
Her blood sang at the admission. But --   
  
“I might. I could lose you this way. Blood pressure increases, heart problems develop, from not getting enough true sleep.” She wasn’t getting through to him, she could tell. “Without the surgery, you will need to avoid alcohol. It worsens the symptoms.” Mm, his eyes had narrowed. He didn’t like that one. There had to be something else could she use – oh, yes.   
  
“Libido decreases.”   
  
“What?” He squinted at her, suspiciously. His arms around her had loosened, and she took a step back.   
  
“You lose interest in sex.”   
  
At the look of horror on his face, River felt a swell of triumph. But she wasn’t done yet. She moved in for the kill.   
  
“Don’t you think one surgery would just be easier? Although, you’ve waited this long for me, easily enough – maybe it’s already happening.” She widened concerned eyes at him, and raised her voice slightly. “Are you finding yourself unable to perform?”   
  
Direct hit. Jayne let out a half-roar that drew attention from all directions, while clamping his hand over her mouth. Behind it, her eyes laughed up at him, and he dropped it to give her shoulder a shake. She darted out from under his arm and was away toward the hulk of Serenity, a few slots down across the port. He told himself he wasn’t gonna chase her, but she was so fast – so he picked up his pace and had nearly caught her, when someone in a port maintenance uniform stepped between them.   
  
“Are you all right, ma'am?” He asked, wary eyes on Jayne. The daiguai wasn’t tall, or by any means muscular. Jayne would have simply flung him out of his path, but River laid a hand on her man’s arm.   
  
“I’m fine,” she told the worker calmly, “though I thank you for your concern. We were merely playing.”   
  
“Playing.” Disbelieving eyes assessed the large mercenary’s aggressive posture and frowning features.   
  
“Yes, he plays. Only with me, though.” River smiled serenely, and after a beat the maintenance man nodded once and moved away from the pair.   
  
They were nearly to Serenity when Jayne spoke up again.   
  
“All right, I’ll do it.”   
  
“You will?” River pulled to a stop again. Sighing, so did Jayne. Everyone on the boat would be griping about them taking so long. But he guessed they could all just wait a little longer, considering the brilliance of the idea that’d just popped into his head.   
  
“I’ll do it, as trade.”   
  
“Trade?”   
  
“Yep.” He swung to face her, threaded his thumbs through his belt loops. “I go under the knife for you, you do somethin’ for me.”   
  
River crossed her arms and firmed her lips. “Such as?”   
  
His teeth flashed at her. “Nothing so bad as what I’d be doing. ‘Stead of a laser and a scalpel, I’m thinking a needle for you.”   
  
River tilted her head, trying to follow his thoughts. “A needle? I am not fond of injections, Jayne.” 

“You might not mind this so much. I don’t mean drugs. I mean ink.”   
  
River’s head straightened. “You want me to get …” She’d never had one. But the idea, once presented, didn’t sound so bad. It might be fun, to express herself in that fashion.   
  
“Yep.” Jayne was nodding. “A tattoo. One that I pick.”   
  
“Ahh –“ River’s musing on the proposal stopped. Something of Jayne’s choosing? Any number of truly tacky images flashed through her mind.   
  
“I may be willing to trade,” she said slowly, “but the design would have to be something I find appealing.”   
  
Jayne’s lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. “I pick it. You don’t like it, I pick another one. You’ll like one eventually.”   
  
River wasn’t so sure, and he read it in her face.   
  
“Hey. You tryin’ to say you don’t like the ones I have? Picked ‘em all myself. Designed a few, even.”   
  
Oh. How could she have forgotten? While not what she might have chosen for herself, Jayne’s tattoos weren’t tacky. She remembered seeing some of them when she was in his bunk. In fact, she’d thought that more than one of them betrayed an interesting degree of self-awareness on Jayne’s part.   
  
She made her decision abruptly, holding out her hand.   
  
“Very well. I accept your terms, reserving the right of final approval. If I don’t like it, you have to find another.”   
  
“Deal.” Jayne’s hand enfolded hers, pumped it once forcefully, and then pulled her into his side. She didn’t resist. They walked the few remaining yards to the ship in that manner, the large man’s arm around the young woman’s shoulders. They were an eye-catching pair, and drew one or two curious looks. But none that River saw were judgmental or harsh.   
  
It was a lightness, to publicly admit feelings in this way. She tucked her own arm around Jayne’s waist, raised her chin, and as the hatch to the ship lowered she met those few curious gazes with equanimity. This is who I’ve chosen, she told them silently. And he picks me. We’re together because we want to be. This is who we are, and that’s how it is.   
  
“I want to be there when you tell Simon,” Jayne asserted as they walked up the ramp.   
  
“Tell me what?”   
  
Inside the cargo bay, Simon turned towards them. He held a wrench in his hand, but there was a suspicious dearth of grease or dirt about his person. From behind him, Kaylee rolled her eyes. He’d obviously been hanging out in the bay being generally annoying while waiting for his sister and Jayne to return.   
  
River had no intention of telling her brother about the tattoo until it was fate accompli. Instead, she flashed a beatific smile at him while Jayne hit the button to close the hatch.   
She spread careful fingers over her belly as she spoke.   
  
“We were going to wait, Simon, but you might as well know …”   
  
“Know what?”   
  
“About the baby.”   
  
Kaylee gasped.   
  
Simon’s white face and his wrench clattering to the floor were outdone by the unintelligible sound that issued from Jayne’s throat. Simon gaped at his little sister for a split second, before whirling in the mercenary’s direction.   
  
Jayne walked toward him, hands at his sides as he wished for the gun he’d not been able to wear into the clinic. He shook his head frantically.   
  
“I swear doc, I have no idea –“   
  
“Don’t!” Simon snapped, while Kaylee rushed to River. “I can’t listen to you –“   
  
“But it isn’t mine –“   
  
“What’s not yours?” That was Mal’s voice. He came into the bay with folded arms, critiquing his crew’s various postures at a glance.   
  
“River’s baby,” Kaylee was happy to fill him in. He threw a startled look towards River, then stepped between the potentially explosive Simon and Jayne.   
  
"We haven't even done what it takes to make a kid." Jayne was growling. Simon's lip curled in an uncharacteristic sneer.   
  
“Hold off, doc. Just a minute. River?” The captain’s voice was stern as he gestured her over. River came, straight-faced, and stood at Jayne’s side. The spurt of hilarity she’d enjoyed died a quick death as she turned her head up and found a stunned hurt on the face of the man she was coming to love.   
  
“Oh,” she breathed, heart twisting as she hasted to right what she’d wronged, “Jayne I’m sorry.” Mal started to speak but she ignored him, focused on Jayne. “It’s not true, I was joking – I’m not having a baby. I haven’t been with anyone, certainly not anyone besides you.” Seeing uncertainty creep into him, she reached for both of his hands. He let her take them. Simon was sputtering, ignored by all but Kaylee, who wrapped her arm around his.   
  
“I swear Jayne,” River pleaded, “there hasn’t been anyone else. There isn’t, and there won’t be.”   
  
He only gauged her face for a moment before nodding slowly. His hands tightened on hers. The anger and pain he’d just experienced had been a revelation, of who he was and what he held important.   
  
“I only want you to touch me like that,” River murmured. They were too caught up in each other to notice Mal pulling the others away and out of the bay.   
  
Jayne’s hand was a little shaky when he raised it to brush a thumb across the fine line of her cheekbone. She dropped her eyes down to view that telltale sign, then raised them up to his while tilting her head into his hold.   
  
“Are you scared?”   
  
She could tell he tried to lie, but in the end he couldn’t.   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“But we can do this.”   
  
“Guess if I can have surgery for ya, I can do lots of things I never thought of.”   
  
That was good enough for her.   
  
Awhile later, Inara came upon Wash affixing a sign to the cargo bay’s closed door. She paused with raised brows.   
  
“Who is in there?”   
  
Wash grinned. “According to the captain, Jayne and River. They might be awhile.”   
  
“Ah.” Inara smiled too, brushed a hand across the letters spelling out ‘Do Not Disturb’, and walked away.


	5. Better in Red

“Get over it.”  River firmed her lips together and lifted her chin out and away from the man who lay on the recovery room cart.

 

“Scuse me?” Jayne responded querulously. “I’ve just had the inside of my nose ripped apart an’ put back t’gether.  Not a lot of fun.  I’ll have my moment of sympathy, thanks.” One could be excused for thinking he had a severe cold, listening to him speak. He did sound rather pitiful, in fact. 

 

But the girl at his side wasn’t swayed. River sighed long-sufferingly and shook her head.

 

  “You’ve had your moment five times, now. I’m having difficulty comprehending the cause of this whining. You’ve endured bullet wounds, knife stabbings, broken bones, numerous surgeries … your suffering now is of less magnitude than many of those instances.”

 

Jayne tried to glare at her, and it hurt, which only made his need to glare that much worse.  He was in a bad gorram mood, and couldn’t show it the way he usually would.  So, maybe he’d given into a few gripes.  He hadn’t whined, exactly …

 

“Yes, you did.”  River ran assessing eyes over the packing that filled Jayne’s nose. There was also a small clear tube inserted into the packing of each nare to allow him to breathe, and eat more easily. It didn’t actually look very comfortable.  In fact, he looked rather like an extinct Earth-That-Was animal, a walrus. Capitulating somewhat, she laid her hand on his and gave it a few pats, while restraining her smile at the inner image she had of a walrusy Jayne.  Maybe she could talk him into growing a mustache, to help the impression along.

 

Jayne curled his fingers up to grab hers and not let go.

 

“If I gotta wear this damn stuff for three days, it’s a good thing we don’t got a job planned.  No way am I showing up in public like this.  There are gorram straws up my nose!”

 

River snugged the arm belonging to the hand he held in along his side, while leaning so he could see her out of both eyes without turning his head.

 

“Why, Jayne, you’re – vain!”

 

“Ha ha, vain Jayne, very funny,” he growled.  He didn’t deny the accusation, though.  He’d seen what he looked like, just after he came out of anesthesia.  If there was a nice bandage, that mighta been all right.  He could mebbe have passed it off as a wound, dutifully earned. But wads of gauze stuffed up his nose, and these yuchun* straws --the fewer people saw him like this, the happier he’d be.

 

River giggled, and the lightness of the sound made him feel better, which he’d recently noticed was becoming habit.  He’d be moody, she’d laugh, he’d feel better. Might be somethin’ wrong with that picture, but since he was feelin’ better he didn’t guess he’d fight it.

 

Simon brushed the privacy curtain aside at that moment, still dressed in his surgical scrubs.  He’d been allowed to scrub in as an assist after the surgeon they’d decided on had checked his credentials and the outpatient ENT clinic had cleared his presence.  Jayne hadn’t really wanted him in the OR, but River had, and he’d allowed it for her sake.  In fact, he’d done all of this for her, and felt it was high time he got a little appreciation for it. 

 

“So I’m stuck here for a bit?” He asked the doc.

 

Simon nodded.  “One or two hours, anyway.  If there are no complications seen by then, you can leave.” He skimmed his gaze across the pair’s entwined hands, but it had been a common sight aboard the ship lately, and only the left cheek twitch that he feared was becoming a tic betrayed his feelings. He was trying, for his sister’s sake, to adjust to this new and disconcerting reality.

 

Jayne nodded at what he’d been told.  To Simon’s surprise, he didn’t complain about having to stay.

 

“You’re gonna have to keep me entertained,” he said to River, and Simon took that as his cue to leave.  Before he was out of the room, though, River had crossed to him to touch his arm.

 

“Thank you, Simon,” she said quietly.  He cocked his head and for once caught the deeper meaning beneath her words.  He did let himself sigh, and shook his head, but then smiled at her before slipping away.  Kaylee was waiting for him, they had dinner reservations.  And he didn’t really care to find out what it was that Jayne was calling ‘entertainment’.

 

Jayne was ready when River came back to his bedside.  She raised curious eyebrows at him.

 

“Entertainment?”

 

“Yep.  I’ve held up my end of the bargain, now you gotta hold up yours.” She better, he vowed, after all he’d gone through for her.  There were straws.   Up his gorramnose.

 

River sighed.  “This will keep you from whining until you’re discharged?”

 

Jayne shrugged.  “Can’t hurt.”  He grinned at her as wide as he could without it hurting.  She shook her head but he saw he had her.

 

“I’ve come up with a few.  See what you think.” 

 

River dragged the curtained cubicle’s only chair over to the cart and sat down, leaning her elbows on the thin mattress. Jayne directed her attention to the small screen he held. 

 

“This one’s very popular.  Don’t understand the name, but it’s an ancient design, from Earth-What-Were.  It’s called a mud flapper.”

 

River regarded the silhouette of a seated naked female, and rolled her eyes. “Entirely inappropriate.  Women do not appeal to me sexually. I like men, Jayne.”

 

Jayne tried to school his expression, but his smirk escaped anyway.  “Ya do, huh?  Now how could I have missed that? Think I might be in need of a demonstration, like, to convince me.”

She was better at hiding her grin than he, and pushed playfully at his elbow with a mock-scowl.  He laughed, and reached an arm out to wrap her shoulders and pull her close.  She took in his light-hearted expression and something twisted startlingly in her chest.  His sea-blue gaze lapped at her own and she felt as though he was filling in all the empty holes of her rocky shore. She swallowed a few times around the sudden lump that rose at the back of her throat.  When he sat the pad down in his lap to tenderly tuck her hair behind her ear, she gave in to what her heart had been trying to tell her.

 

She was in love with this man, and there would never be another for her.

 

“Hey, River, you OK?”  His question broke through to her and she roused herself back to consciousness of their surroundings.  It was a realization she would keep to herself for now, she decided, as she relaxed into his arm.

 

“I am well.  Next image, please.” It wouldn’t hurt to see everything he’d prepared.  Straws, after all.

________________________________________

 

 

 Jayne didn’t come up with an acceptable design by the end of that day, or even by the time his packing was removed and he went back to work.  A week went by, with the rest of the crew gradually becoming adjusted to the new relationship and in which Simon restrained himself from voicing his opinion about River spending nights in Jayne’s bunk.  At least, he consoled himself, all her things were still in her own.  She hadn’t moved in with him. 

 

Yet.

 

He winced and thought about something else, with Kaylee’s assistance.

 

Simon may or may not have been a bit relieved to know that at least part of the time the two spent behind closed doors was expended in going over dozens of tattoo designs.  In the company of others, there was much chuckling, giggling, and swearing to be observed, accompanied by secretive glances, which in an established relationship would have struck Simon as odd. But despite his best efforts, he still found the whole thing an anomalous mistake, and he wasn’t inclined to mark any of it as significant.  

 

So on it went, weeks passing with River rejecting one after another of Jayne’s choices.  He began to amuse himself by throwing in things he knew she’d never go for, such as the first one she’d seen.  It became rather an art to him, to dig up the tackiest or most licentious pictures he could fine, just to see her reaction.  But as they passed a month’s mark since his nasal surgery, with no decision in view, he found his patience waning.

 

 He proposed a rose. “Clichéd,” was her response. After she’d explained the word to him, he had trouble understanding how a flower’s simple beauty could ever be considered hackneyed. But she firmly rejected it, so on to the next option.

 

He tried a variety of graphic designs. “Too abstract.”

 

Any number of axioms, witticisms, and proverbs.  “Tacky.”

 

A carefully stylized side-view of a gun superimposed on a wickedly curved knife. “On me, redundant.” But she had assessed the workmanship carefully, and turned widened eyes to him.

 

“You designed this?”

 

He admitted rather sheepishly that it was so, and she’d made a hard copy of it and hung it in her room.  He felt a ridiculous spurt of pride whenever he was in there and saw it. 

 

Portrayals of mythical, extinct, and exotic animals, various nature scenes, and myriad cosmic structures all met with rejection.  As a rule Jayne spent very little time on the cortex, and as the number of hours he took up flicking through screen after screen grew, he hoped no one noticed this, yet another deviation from his normal behaviour. River was determined her brother not know about the tat until there was nothing he could do except gripe about it. 

 

Jayne was in the cockpit doing research yet again when River entered and came up behind his chair, working her fingers around it while leaning in over him.  Jayne let his head settle back against her.  There were some things changing about him, he found, and it showed at times like this.  For a moment he just savored her being there. It was something he’d never had before. One woman around to touch, the same woman everyday, who touched him too with her eyes and smile and arms. He knew her family (the ones that counted, not her hundun parents) and her history and her quirks and tastes and loyalties.

 

It astounded and, if he’d been the type to admit it, humbled him. He was allowed so many things to which he was unaccustomed on any long-term basis. He could slide his hand down the fall of her hair when she stood near him, and it was so much better than any whore’s ever had been.  He could wrap his arm around her shoulder while they sat at table in the galley.  He’d be walking down the corridor and pass her, and could pull her into his arms and kiss her softly -- or not-so-softly. Maybe best of all, he could glare off any encroacher on any planet, with a look that said “Mine. Hands off.”  He’d never had these rights before, with anyone. It frightened and exhilarated him.

 

‘Course, she had those rights too.  And that was just as strangely comforting and scary and thrilling.

 

So he rubbed his hands gently up her bare arms and only half-tried to hide his smile at the kiss he felt her drop into his hair.  He was consciously facing up to the fact that this wasn’t going away, and he didn’t want it to.

 

Ever.

 

He’d never been an ‘always’ kind of man, but she was turning him into one. He stared unseeingly at the screen and decided he needed to be figuring out how she felt about that.  The whole forever thing.

 

“Definitely not.” River’s voice was severe over the top of his head.  He jerked upright, fear spiking through him that she’d read his mind and rejected his wishes before they’d been fully birthed. But she was pointing at the cortex.  He focused on it, then grinned in relief.  She was rejecting the tattoo shown there, of an astonishingly endowed woman obscenely entwined with an equally ridiculously gifted male. 

 

“Knew that without you tellin’ me,” he said gruffly, “just got a little … off-track, lookin’ for somethin’ for you.”

 

River puffed dismissively.

 

In the following weeks, River began to note that the tattoo choices Jayne offered her grew more . . . personal.  She couldn’t use the word sentimental in relation to her man, but there was definitely some thought being expended on what was shown her.  She said nothing because he said nothing.  But her heart felt the impacts.

 

There was a depiction of Serenity, an exterior view, in simple black adorned with a soft burnishment of gold.  River paused, brushed her fingers over it, said ‘maybe’. When she discovered it was another of Jayne’s own designs, it joined that of the weapons on her wall. But no decision was reached. 

 

One day he produced several renditions of his own name.  River wrinkled her nose at all of them.  “I have no wish to be branded,” she said brusquely.  He shrugged. And that was that.

 

The next one was a female angel.  River regarded the flowing brown hair and familiar face and found she had to swallow around a lump in her throat, before meeting Jayne’s expectant gaze.  He seemed to be saying … something, but she couldn’t quite decipher the message. “Endearing,” she  commented quietly, brushing a finger over wings that appeared to have an unusual strength. “But unrealistic, I think.” Jayne had just nodded and turned away.  It was only after he was gone that she noticed the ballet slippers that clad the angel’s dainty feet.

 

 

 

There were no offerings after that, for a few days.  Jayne was uncharacteristically quiet and River began to fret she’d hurt him.  She thought about mentioning that she’d kept yet another print of his designs, just that her angel was hidden in a drawer, away from prying eyes, and taken out only for private viewings. But as he still pulled her near to his body every chance he got, and refused to sleep without her, she let it lie.  She worked hard at staying out of Jayne’s private thoughts, and for the most part succeeded.  She only caught glimpses of a heaviness in him that wasn’t sorrow, but tasted of examination, and perhaps growing self-awareness.

 

Jayne’s introspection ran the course of a week or so, and abruptly ended.  The crew noticed he was back to his loud, blunt self after one of his typical run-ins with Mal over a job Jayne felt he could have handled better than the captain.

 

“Well,” Simon remarked as he watched Mal march off one direction and Jayne the other, “seems like we’re back to our annoying normalcy.”

 

They were dirtside, had just finished a decent job, and were experiencing some downtime awaiting cargo when Jayne approached River again.  They were both in his bunk.  Jayne set aside the brush he’d been sliding through the length of hair and got up to retrieve the small pad he’d been using to display tattoos.  He returned to crouch beside where River was seated on the floor with her legs crossed in front of her. He didn’t tilt the screen towards her immediately, though.  He tapped it against a palm and frowned down at his girl thoughtfully.

 

“Got one more for y’ to see.” 

 

River nodded hopefully.  She’d half-decided to agree to whatever it was, just to make him happy.  But another part of her had laden this event, this Getting a Tattoo for Jayne, with too much import to be taken so lightly.

 

“It’s the last I got.  If ya decide ya don’ want this one, I won’t hold ya to yer promise.” He saw that this alarmed her in the quick, nervous upturning of her face.  He hoped she knew he wasn’t angry about all the rejections she’d given him. He’d actually gotten glad she hadn’t settled for one of those, because it let him do this. He played his trump card.  Pushed the screen toward her, then swallowed while he waited nervously.

 

River accepted the pad and stared at the image.  She bowed her head for a moment, the hair he’d just tamed sweeping forward to hide her face.  He settled down on his rump beside her and tried not to fidget.  He cleared his throat once, trying to get her to look at him.

 

When she finally did, he relaxed.  Her eyes shone, and not from tears.  Funny how he’d sort of been expecting those.

 

“Well?” He prompted, unable to wait when she didn’t immediately speak.  Her brilliant smile gave him permission to slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her into the cove of his shoulder. 

 

“Yes, Jayne,” she nodded against his t-shirt. “I agree to this one. Happiness twice.”  She ran her fingers over the character on the small screen, a Chinese double-happiness symbol.  "Destiny. Love. In red, per tradition,” she murmured.

 

Jayne grinned, and gave her a squeeze.

 

“I think you’ll be the one looking better in red, this time.”

 

River wrapped her free arm around his back and caressed his side.

 

 “Is this a proposal?” she wanted to know.

 

  “Uh - not - exactly.” Jayne found a need to clear his throat again. “Mebbe more of a declaration sayin’ possibly, maybe, I’m thinkin’ about havin’ … intentions.”

 

River tilted her head up to reward his struggle with a kiss on the chin.  He dipped his head down to make it a real kiss, and the pad fell from her hands to lay forgotten for quite awhile.  When she had her sanity back, she leaned over the reclining masculinity she was cushioned against and retrieved it from where it had fallen. Contemplating it, she smiled again. There was a tender glow around her heart that she knew spilled over into her expression.

 

“Perhaps we should split it.  You have half and I have half.”

 

Jayne turned his head on the blanket that had ended up beneath them on the floor, and considered it.  “Mebbe,” he granted at last.  “I was thinkin’ about that angel for me, actually.  But sharing this one might make it harder for ya t’ ever leave me.”

 

“Don’t plan on the leaving,” River advised him from where she rested on his chest. Her tone and face were suddenly solemn.

 

Jayne nodded equally grave acceptance down at her.

 

“Good. Now.” His grin was pure leer. “About where, exactly, we’re gonna putthese tattoos.”

*yuchun - stupid


End file.
